


how far i’ll go

by mysterytwin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gravity Falls Secret Santa 2016, Happy Holidays Everyone!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8937541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterytwin/pseuds/mysterytwin
Summary: Stan and Ford didn’t have the best day, but maybe patching things up with one another can fix it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [embulalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/embulalia/gifts).



> happy holidays [embulalia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/embulalia/pseuds/embulalia)! I hope you like your gift!
> 
> special thanks to [proseandsongs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Proseandsongs/pseuds/Proseandsongs) for editing!

Stan might be bad at metaphors, but he has to let it all out somehow. So, here he is, thinking of a dumb metaphor that can explain his feelings. The thing about metaphors is that they have to be deep and philosophical, right? That can’t be too hard. Poets do it all the time! He just needs to dig deep into his feelings, even though he’s never really been an emotional type of guy.

Anyway. Here goes nothing. 

Stan is a boat. That’s dumb, isn’t it? But it’s the only thing he can think of as he stares at the Stan O’ War ahead of him, perched on the sand and ready to sail. Okay. So he’s a boat and he likes to…sail? He likes traveling. He wants to see the world. But he can’t do that without the sea; he won’t budge unless there’s a sea to move on. And that’s where his brother comes in. He has a feeling thinking making a metaphor about him will be a lot easier. 

Ford is the sea: deep thoughts and meaningful words. He’ll know the secrets of the world one day, like how the ocean knows the secrets of what’s down in the trenches. He’s loved by all, taken care of by all, no matter how weird he might be. He’s the ocean, blue and wide, stretching out to places that are hard to find. He connects islands together. He connects ideas and people together.

Putting the two metaphors together is the easiest part — of _course_ it is. He’s been thinking about this part all his life. 

Artists always put boats and seas together, but they always paint the sea first. Boats are lucky enough to survive out on the sea — Stan is lucky enough to have Ford as a brother, one that cares about him. The boat is _tiny_ compared to how vast the ocean is, and he’ll never be able to compete against Ford. There’s no use when a boat is nothing without a sea, half of a dynamic duo. He’d get shipwrecked trying to be better, only to be swallowed in defeat without another word. Boats are useless on their own; but the sea, everyone needs it to survive. 

Ford doesn’t need him. No one does.       

He could win a medal at the boxing competition and no one would congratulate him. He could reach the edge of the earth and no one would say anything. He could move to another country and no one would visit him. He could end up in a hospital and no one would inform his family. He could _die_ and no one would notice. 

Despite this, he still wants to be a hero. He could get a better tombstone than Ford, but maybe that’s a stretch. If he’s lucky, he might, that is.

Stan sighs, swinging his legs back and forth. As absurd as it sounds, he still feels bad about being a boat. He’s just a simple boat, drifting atop the sea with no planned destination. It’s not like anyone would accept him, anyway. Although it’s last thing he wants, he might just stay here in Jersey after all. Ford’s gonna go and rule the science field with his world-changing smart ways…and he’ll be stuck here. Pa is not going to like it, and Ma is just going to be disappointed. He doesn’t really want that, but it’s not like he has another choice. No fancy college is going to accept him. He just hopes his brother remembers to call once in a while.

“I figured you’d be here, Stanley,” Ford says quietly, as he sits down on the swing next to him. “Bad day?”

“The worst,” he replies, not once removing his gaze away from the sea. “What brings you ‘ere? You never really come ‘ere anymore, ya know.” That’s when he turns his head to look at his brother and sees a little bit of guilt in his eyes. It’s gone in an instant, but it gives him the opportunity to see the lost look on Ford’s face. “Bad day, too, huh?”

He sighs deeply. “I don’t think I’m good enough.”

Stan’s mouth hangs open, and he blinks rapidly. “Are you kiddin’ me, Sixer? You don’t think you’re good enough? You’re the only person I know who can pass every test without even tryin’!”

Ford throws his hands in front of him in frustration. “But there are so many people out there who are better and smarter than I am. I…I don’t know. None of them are six-fingered freaks. I’ll only feel useless standing next to them.”

“Makes two of us, then,” he mutters. 

“What do you mean?”

Stan shakes his head quickly. “Nothin’ important. Just dumb feelings messin’ with my head, that’s all.” He can’t tell Ford that he and his six fingers are the reason why he feels so pathetic. He knows it’s bad to compare two extremely different people, but he can’t help it. Ford’s going places and he’s…he’s not. He’s stuck on the same page of his boring story. 

After a moment passes, Ford speaks up again. “I got called a freak again today,” he tells him, fists starting to clench.

“I shoulda been there—”

“It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway,” Ford interrupts with a sharp breath. “You weren’t in that class and I left before they could say anything else.”

Stan sees the pain on Ford’s face and winces. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Notes in my locker. Said I was too weird for everyone and that I should get lost. That I was ugly, that I had a nose that was too big and my glasses were too thick and my face was too fat for anyone to like me. That I wasn’t strong.”

“They’re liars, Ford.”

“But what if they’re right?” he asks desperately, clenching his fists. He almost never cries, but this is it: his breaking point. “What if…what if nothing ever happens to me? What if I never do anything worthy of anyone’s time?”

“You will,” Stan says with determination. “I _know_ you will. People out there, they ain’t gonna care if you got six fingers or not. What matters is your brain. Don’t let ‘em get to ya, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” He nods, but he doesn’t make eye contact. “I’ll try.”

Sure, Stan could comfort his brother, but he couldn’t even comfort himself.

“Stanley?”

“Yeah?” he says, turning to face his brother.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Hit me with your hardest,” he says, as he smiles a little. “You can’t hurt me.”

Ford’s lips tug upwards. Then the smile is gone in a flash. “What made your day so bad?”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” Stan answers defensively. “Not important, remember?”

“Does it have something to do with me?”

Stan freezes, breathing sharply. “Oh, jeez…you really got your brain messed up today, don’t ya? Why would you have something to do with it? You’ve done nothing.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? I haven’t done anything with you in for weeks. I haven’t asked you about your day in a long time. I’m sorry,” Ford apologizes. 

“Don’t sweat it, Sixer,” Stan says dismissively. “I’m doing great.

“You don’t sleep well at night, Stan,” Ford points out. “You move a lot. I know you aren’t sleeping well.”

“They’re just nightmares, Ford. Not like they’re real or anything,” he tries to say calmly.

Ford doesn’t budge.

He raises his eyebrow. “What are they about?”

“What are you? A psychiatrist?”

“I’m trying to help you, Stanley, since you helped me,” he says. “You can tell me.”

Stan shakes his head. “You’re not gonna like it, so just drop it, will ya?”

“No, Stanley, I won’t,” he says with finality. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“I ain’t doin’ this. I’m gonna to leave,” he says angrily, standing up. 

Ford takes hold of his arm. He pulls him back. “Why is it so hard for you to tell me? What are you so _afraid_ of? Just tell me!”

“It’s _you_!” Stan exclaims, as tears threaten to fall. He balls his fists, eyes shut. He doesn’t see the confused and pained expression on Ford’s face.

“You’re always so much better than me! I can’t do nothin’, Sixer, I’m not like you! I’m never gonna end up anywhere and all I’m ever gonna think about is _why can’t I be more like you_?” Stan shouts, broken words spilling out faster than he can think. 

“You really wanna know what happened today? Well, let me tell you. Today, when I got called to the principal’s office, it wasn’t because of detention like everyone thought — like what I thought. You know what he asked me the moment I sat down? _Why can’t you be more like Ford?_ That’s what he said! He told me ‘bout your perfect grades and how you’re gonna change the world! But he told me that I wasn’t gonna change a thing! He told me the thing I had been thinkin’ about for years, Stanford! I’m a loser and I don’t even know what’s gonna happen to me! I’m gonna be stuck here while you make the world a better place.”

Stan falls to his knees, his cheeks stained with tears. “I’m stuck here.”

Ford doesn’t say anything after his outburst, taking in his brother’s words. He sits on the ground next to Stan. “I…I didn’t know.”

“‘Course you didn’t. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” he says immediately. “It’s…mine.”

He wipes his eyes. “Listen, Sixer. Just because I feel worthless standin’ next to you doesn’t mean you gotta change who you are. It makes you… _you_. Don’t mind me. I’ll get through this. I always do.”

“Stan…”

“I got this, Sixer. Trust me on this. It’s my life. Just go live yours.” Stan cracks a smile.

Ford looks hesitant. “I’m sorry you feel this way, I just…I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he tells him. “Just don’t leave, I guess. Not yet.”

“I think I can do that,” Ford says with a smile. He sits closer to Stan. “But why did you never tell me? I could’ve done something, I could’ve helped you. You wouldn’t had to feel this way if you had told me.”

“And what good would that do? Ford, you changin’ the world is more important than what I feel. You change the world and I’ll know it all payed off in the end,” Stan tells him, breaking eye contact.

“You still want to be a hero, right?” Ford asks softly. 

Stan hums out a yes, watching the stars appear. Crickets start chirping and the wind grows softer, blowing the sail of the Stan O’ War gently. It’s peaceful. The way the light of the sun fades away to turn into the moon and the soft blow of the wind behind his ears — it’s his favorite time of the day. 

“You’ll save the world one day,” Ford says. “And I’ll change it.”

“Savior of the World seems like a pretty good title, don’t you think? Stanley Pines: Savior of the World.” 

“And his brother, Stanford Pines: the Man Who Changed the World,” Ford adds. He grins.

“Eh, it’s not as catchy,” Stan teases, as he smirks. 

Ford nudges him. “You’re just jealous.”

“If that helps you sleep at night, then fine,” he says as he rolls his eyes. He stares back up at the stars. “Hey, it’s that constellation. The whatdyacallit, the Big Dopper?”

“The Big Dipper,” Ford clarifies. “Wait…is that a shooting star? That’s odd, they don’t usually come this early—”

“Shut up and make a wish!” Stan says. He closes his eyes and mouths his words. When he opens his eyes, he sees that the shooting star has burned out. “It’s gone.”

“Yeah,” Ford agrees, staring up at the sky as well. He points at another constellation. “And there’s Castor and Pollux, otherwise known as Gemini together.”

“Star nerd,” Stan jokes, but he knows the story of the two stars. How Pollux gave up his immortality when Castor died, so they could be together in the stars. It hits a little too close to home for his liking, but he knows he’d do the same. He hopes Ford would, too.

He might be a boat and Ford might be the sea. One could be useless and the other could be amazing on their own, but together they’re just enough.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu at superishs.tumblr.com!!


End file.
